


Personal Development

by Fanforthefics (StormDancer)



Series: Hockey Tumblr Oneshots [13]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Player(s), Alternate Universe - Reality Show, M/M, Mutual Pining, queer eye AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 11:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15217715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDancer/pseuds/Fanforthefics
Summary: “You always have people. Have us. Have me.”Sid smiles, because the cameras are on them still, because he knows Geno’s sincere, because it’s not a problem. “I’m not one of the guys we’re making over, G. You don’t have to pull that on me.”





	Personal Development

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: things you said through someone else. 
> 
> Unbetaed and basically unedited. Don't know anything about anyone, these aren't real people, don't own rights to anything, etc etc. Enjoy!

“So, what’s your favorite food?” Sid leans against the counter, watches Phil as he stands awkwardly in his kitchen. He’s clearly not comfortable with them being there yet–it always takes the hero a few days to get used to them, especially someone like Phil, who clearly only went along with his sister’s nomination because he loved her that much. Sid would like him for that alone, if he didn’t like the kindness behind his grumpiness, the humor. Sid’s pretty good at finding something to like in all the heroes–he’s not Tanger, who sometimes has to be cajoled into not being mean at the start–but Phil’s easy to like. 

“Um, I don’t know. I like steak and potatoes?” Phil says. Sid laughs, going through his rolodex of recipes in his mind. 

“Who doesn’t?” he asks, and turns slightly so that the cameras following them will get a good view of him. “We can work with that. Anything else?” 

“Pasta?” Phil chuckles, a little self-deprecatingly. “I’m not much of a cook.” 

“I can see that,” Sid agrees, looking around the kitchen. In the living room, he can see Flower making a circle of the room, measuring and taking notes; he knows Hags and Tanger are in the bedroom, picking through the closet and bathroom. He doesn’t know where Geno is; he doesn’t have as set a place for these intro meetings. More often than not, he hangs around in the kitchen with Sid, because they’ve learned they’re a good tag team to get to know someone–Geno picks and pries and bullies a little, and Sid’s there to play the good cop. But maybe Geno’s in the bedroom, or out back, getting a feel for Phil. That’s fine. “Any reason why?” 

Phil shrugs. “I don’t know, I just never felt the need. Take out works, you know?” 

“For sure,” Sid agrees, the instinct kicking in, and then there’s laughter and a large body draping itself over his back. 

“Is a lie,” Geno tells Phil, laughing. “Sid judging you, right now. No take out, only cook after he done with you.” 

Sid rolls his eyes, but doesn’t move. Geno’s warm against his back, in a way that Sid has decided is not going to be a problem given that they’re coworkers for the foreseeable future. “If that were true, you’d know how to cook.” 

“I cook!” Geno protests. Sid doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to see Geno’s affronted face. “I teach you how to make Russian food! You say you like!” 

“I do,” Sid agrees, meeting Phil’s eyes to commiserate over Geno’s emotions. He’s found that for guy’s guys like Phil, that usually works. Phil grins a little. “But how often have you cooked in the past week?” 

“Don’t need to, you cook for me.” Geno presses a quick, easy kiss to Sid’s hair, then lets him go. “You can’t have him, though, so you need to learn,” he tells Phil, and leans against the counter next to Sid. “You done with him?” 

“Barely begun,” Sid retorts. “We were just getting started when you interrupted.” 

“Go on, then.” Geno gestures, and Sid rolls his eyes again. Phil makes a noise into his beard that’s mainly a chuckle. 

“Do you really cook all the time?” Phil asks, in what sounds like amazement. 

“No.” Geno snorts. “I don’t!” Sid protests. “I do cook a lot, though. I like to eat healthy, and that’s easiest at home.” He angles towards the cameras again, and Geno turns with him. Sid’s been on camera longer than Geno, knows how it works better. Is more comfortable with it–more resigned, at least, then probably any of them, though Flower likes to mug for the camera and Hags and Tanger like to preen for it. “And I making food creates a community. I–” he swallows. This is the part he hates–it’s expected of him, to share things about himself too. He’s not great at that. “For a long time, or even still, I’m not certain with people. Cooking gives you a good excuse to have people over without needing to overthink it. And it gives you something to do with your hands.” 

Geno’s hands land on Sid’s, slowing them where he was fidgeting. 

“I’m not great with people,” Phil admits. “If you couldn’t tell,” he adds, waving his arm around the apartment, which is generously a mess. 

“That’s what we’re here for!” Flower chirps, ducking his head into the kitchen. “Hey, Tanger and Hags are ready and the lighting’s set up, you guys good to talk?” 

Sid glances at Geno. Geno nods. “We’re good,” Sid agrees, and Flower slings an arm over Phil’s shoulder to lead him into the kitchen. Sid goes to follow them, but Geno grabs his wrist first, catching him and turning him around into him. 

“You don’t need excuse, to have people,” he tells Sid, earnest and sure and all emotion, like he always is. “You always have people. Have us. Have me.” 

Sid smiles, because the cameras are on them still, because he knows Geno’s sincere, because it’s not a problem. “I’m not one of the guys we’re making over, G. You don’t have to pull that on me.” 

Geno shakes his head. “Not pulling anything,” he says, but he lets go of Sid’s hand to head into the other room. “Any time you want to come cook for me, you welcome,” he adds, and Sid flips him off as he follows him, laughing. 

///

_“Yeah, I’d say I know Sid pretty well–we’ve been friends for years.” Flower laughs at something that’s said off camera. “He can be closed off, but that’s understandable, given everything. Not around us, though.”_

_He pauses, then adds. “And definitely not around Geno. Geno–well.” Flower grins, pleased with himself. “Geno makes him flower.”_

///

Sid tends to spend a lot of his time alone, during the week; his work doesn’t really need to involve Phil until the end. He consults with Flower about the kitchen part of the redesign, works on recipes and meal plans. But half of what they’re selling this reboot on is his name, and they all know that, so he tags along with Tanger when he takes Phil to get his new clothes. 

“Sid is here for the demonstration of what not to wear,” Tanger tells Phil, as they walk into the store. Sid shoves at Tanger; Tanger shoves back. 

“I’m not that bad.” 

Tanger glares. “Yellow crocs.” 

“They were comfortable!” 

“They were unacceptable,” Tanger retorts, and turns to Phil, who’s looking considering. “Don’t even think about it.” 

“They really were comfortable,” Sid tells Phil. He stands by his choices. 

“Right, you wore them when you were shooting all the time” Phil says, and Sid pauses. He hadn’t said that. He doesn’t think that was in any of the publicity materials, back for his old show. “Geno said,” Phil tells him, offhand. “He was telling some story and it came up.” 

“Oh?” Tanger asks, and smiles knowingly at Sid. Sid narrows his eyes back. They’re all in each other’s pockets on the show, and he’s been friends with Flower and Tanger for years, so it was maybe inevitable they’d figure out his inconvenient little crush. But they don’t have to talk about it on camera. “What story was he telling?” 

“I think he was illustrating something about hard work? I don’t know.” Phil doesn’t seem to care, turning instead to look at the racks of suits. He looks very skeptical. “Are these for me?” 

“No.” Tanger does stroke the fabric of one a little bit, though. Sometimes Sid wonders just what he and his husband get up to in bed, if he looks at fabric like that. He really doesn’t think about it too hard. “Your stuff is in the back, come on.” 

Sid sits on a bench to watch as Tanger talks Phil through some of the basics. He’s heard it all a million times–from Tanger, and from stylists before him–so instead he pulls out his phone. 

 _Why are you telling clients about my yellow crocs?_ he texts Geno. 

 _Someday it make it on camera_ , Geno texts back.  _And is good story. About you be yourself always, even when hard._  

 _It was about me being comfortable_ , Sid replies. It really wasn’t deep. Sid’s not a deep guy. Even if sometimes, when Geno says things like that–Sid sort of wishes he were. 

_That what you think_

A producer clears his throat, pointed, and Sid puts his phone away, checks back in just in time to hear Tanger say, “And proper tailoring can make a suit work even if your body doesn’t quite work for it. Look at Sid.” 

“What about me?” Sid asks, getting up to rejoin them. Tanger’s worked his magic, like usual; Phil looks sharp and he’s standing straighter already. Sid’s always amazed by what Tanger and Hags do, how they can make people do that. 

“Ass like that, he needs a tailor. But his pants work.” Tanger eyes Sid’s ass in a way that might make Sid uncomfortable if it wasn’t Tanger. 

“And it’s really not that expensive, if you find someone good,” he adds, because he knows that’s what people always balk at when it comes to tailoring. “It really is worth it.”

Phil’s still looking skeptical, but Sid’s never seen Tanger not win someone over in the end. 

“Okay,” Tanger says, and herds Phil back into the dressing room. “We’ve got more outfits to try.” 

///

_“It could have gone really wrong, if the five of us didn’t get along.” Hags tells the camera. “Luckily, we all like each other. I wasn’t sure, though. I mean, you heard things about Sidney Crosby, back when he was on TV. But that’s not him at all. Not the bad stuff, at least. And the other guys are great too.” A pause, then. “Oh, yeah, we all hang out off camera. Us and our husbands and our kids. Well, Tanger and Flower’s husbands. Sid and Geno usually come stag.” His lips purse, and he starts to smile. “I wonder whose head would explode first, if one of them brought a boyfriend.”_

///

“Is this up for grabs?” 

“No.” 

“Awesome.” Flower grabs for one of the sliders Sid’s been experimenting with; Sid, with the ease of long practice, bats his hand away. “Come on, take pity! I’ve been at Phil’s apartment all day, doing actual work.” 

“I’ve been slaving over a hot stove,” Sid retorts, but he sighs. “There’s some brushetta in the fridge.” 

“You’re the best.” Flower tells him, and goes to the fridge.

“How’s the design going?” Sid asks, as Flower rummages. “Grab me a gatorade?” 

“It’s going well. You’ll like it, there’s a lot of hockey.” Flower slides the gatorade over to him. 

“I like things other than hockey.” 

“Uh-huh.” Flower takes a bite, then hums appreciatively. “Damn, that’s good.” 

Sid smiles down at the pan in front of him. There’s nothing quite like that sound. 

“Anyway, I went to the furniture store with Phil and Geno today,” Flower goes on. He’s still eying the sliders. He and Sid have been in a bit of a war to see who has faster hands for the better part of a decade. “Are you actually thinking of redecorating and you didn’t tell me?” 

“No?” Sid flips the burgers on the pan. 

“I thought you changing anything sounded out of character, but G said that you were thinking of a change.” 

Sid thinks back. “I think I said that I still wasn’t happy with the den, when Geno was over? You know the bookshelves didn’t come out like I wanted them to.” 

“If you’d let me do it–”

“You wouldn’t let me pay you.” 

“You’re my friend!”

“And I’d have been hiring you to do a job,” Sid retorts. It’s the same argument they’ve had since Sid bought his first house. “Anyway. I might figure something out in that room. It’s starting to bug me.” 

“I can poke around at it,” Flower suggests. “You can make me a romantic dinner for my anniversary in payment.” 

“I can do that,” Sid agrees. “Thanks.” He pokes at the burgers, judges them done, and slides them onto the buns. “How did that come up?” 

“Geno was there,” Flower tells him, like that explains anything. “Okay, now are these for grabs?” 

“No. What does that mean, that Geno was there?” 

“He’s doing his ‘you need to make a change, change isn’t scary’ routine on Phil, and he needed to illustrate it, I think.” Flower turns back to the fridge. “If you can change, anyone can.” 

“Oh, that’s flattering,” Sid mutters. He’s not wrong, of course, but it’s not entirely how Sid would like Geno to see him. 

“You know we love you even if you’re the most boring child star there is,” Flower says, over the sound of him digging around in the fridge. Sid’s fingers twitch to pull him away. If he trusts anyone to keep something organized, it’s Flower, but it’s his fridge. “And Phil seemed to respond. He likes you.” 

“Yeah, we get each other,” Sid agrees. The heroes always connect more with one or two of the guys. There have been some Sid just can’t access. But Phil and he are on the same wavelength. 

“He’s not in awe of your fame?” 

Sid snorts. Being on a TV show twenty years ago and then disappearing and slowly drifting out of the spotlight once everyone realized he wasn’t going to be a scandal isn’t exactly what he’d call fame. “I don’t think he watched it.” 

“Maybe we should do a showing,” Flower says, considering, and Sid really doesn’t have any choice but to check him with his hip for that. Flower laughs as he stumbles away from the fridge. “Come on, he’d love it! Look how far you’ve come. Like Geno says. If you can change…” 

He’s cut off by the door to the loft opening. “Smells good!” Geno calls, and comes right to the kitchen. That’s another reason Sid likes to cook–it gathers people to him without him trying. “What you making?” Geno asks, leaning in to look. He looks good, fresh from the outside; his cheeks red, his jacket still slung over his shoulders. Sid only notices as little as he can. 

“Sliders, for Phil. They’ll be good party food.” 

Geno nods. He gives Sid his most pathetic pout, which is more ridiculous than anything. “Can I try?” 

Sid rolls his eyes. But well. He does need to taste test. “Yeah, tell me which batch you like better,” he says, and Flower makes an offended sound that’s just too low to be a squeak. 

“Hey! How come he gets to have some?” 

“Because he asked.” 

“Because I’m his favorite,” Geno tells Flower, around the mouthful of burger. “This is delicious, Sid. As good as it smells.” 

Geno always smells good, which is a stupid thing to think. To distract himself, Sid takes his own bite. “It’s still missing something,” he argues. He can’t put his finger on it, but it’s not perfect yet. 

“Only if you need it absolutely perfect.” Sid raises his eyebrows at Geno. “Okay, yes, silly thing to say,” Geno admits, grinning at Sid. Sid can’t help but grin back. 

“I’m getting back to work, this is gross,” Flower mutters. Sid ignores him. He turns back to his bowl of meat for the patties, to add some more onions. 

“So how was your day?” he asks, as starts to chop. Geno’s quiet. He turns around, and Geno’s watching him, smiling a little. “G?” 

“Sorry. Was good,” Geno says, and proceeds to tell him about his plans for his expedition with Phil tomorrow. 

_///_

_“Geno, he is always pushing. It’s good. It makes us all better.” Tanger makes a face like he’s remembering something funny. “The first time he talked back to Sid–Sid is the leader a little bit, yes? He is good at it. But the first time Geno pushed back…” He shakes his head. “Geno is good at that. It’s what he does for everyone. He pushes people to do more. It’s good for us.” Tanger smirks. “It’s good for Sid.”  
_

///

“Okay, we’re making a play off of sliders,” SId tells Phil. He’s already seen Flower’s new design, they’ve oohed and aahed at how good he looks in the clothes Tanger put him in, with his new haircut courtesy of Hags. It’s Sid’s turn. “They’re fancier, though. They’ll impress anyone.” 

“I feel like that’s the theme,” Phil touches his hair, like he can’t help it. “I feel so much more impressive.” 

“You look it,” Sid tells him, grinning. “Didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“Not really. I’ve never really thought–I mean, I figured my work could talk for me.” 

“If only,” Sid agrees, nodding. Then again, if work could be enough, he wouldn’t be here, so maybe it’s not a good thing. He doesn’t know. “But as it can’t–ready to learn to cook?” 

“For sure,” Phil says, and comes up next to the stove to watch as Sid walks him through it. 

“Are you feeling ready for the event?” Sid asks, as the burgers are browning in the pan. 

“Definitely. I”m not as nervous anymore.” 

“Geno talked you through it?” Sid asks, pushing the meat around. “You want to keep the meat moving, or else it’ll burn.” 

“Okay.” Phil looks like he’d rather take notes. “Yeah, Geno helped.” 

“He’s good at that.” 

“He is,” Phil’s still eying how Sid’s pushing the meat–Sid loves ex-athletes, they’re so good at watching exactly how you should move your body. “Although maybe you should get some of the credit.” 

“I just cook.” 

“No, I mean–half of Geno’s things are about you. About how you’ve worked to be better. How great you are, really, and how you still work at it. How I should do that too.” 

Sid’s hand tightens on the spatula. Phil doesn’t appear to notice. “I figured you knew? Flower said he did it all the time. To everyone.” 

“Oh.” SId keeps stirring. Oh.  That’s sweet of Geno. Though if he’s telling personal things, Sid’ll have to talk to him. He knows how much Sid hates that. But the cameras are on them, and SId’s not going to react to that. “Here, see this color? That’s how you know it’s ready.” 

Phil nods again, serious, and Sid keeps on instructing him. He doesn’t think about. He doesn’t let himself think about Geno talking about him, praising him, when he’s not there. They’re coworkers. They’re on camera most of their professional lives. Sid can’t–he won’t be a scandal. He won’t be that sort of star. 

Still, after Phil heads into the living room for their final goodbye, Sid looks out–past the cameras, at the cameraman behind him. “Does he really?” he asks. 

Horny lets the camera fall, so he can talk over it. “Yes,” he replies, like it’s obvious and Sid should have known. “Do you want to see the tape? We have more B-roll of it than anyone could need.” 

“No, that’s fine.” Sid glances into the living room. They’re all gathered, and there’s a spot open next to Geno that’s clearly for him. As he looks, Geno looks up, meets his eye, jerks his head. 

“Why you so slow?” he demands, and Sid makes a face at him as he heads into the living room. 

“I’m not slow.” 

“You are,” Geno tells him. He doesn’t move, even when SId sits down maybe a little too close, so they’re just a tiny bit closer together than normal. It’s normal for them, though. Geno’s never moved away. Now, he even slings an arm behind the couch, so it’s basically around Sid’s shoulders. “Is okay, we love you anyway.” 

The cameras are on them. The guys are looking at them, so is Phil. Geno’s watching him, with soft laughing eyes and no expectation. He knows what Sid is. He knows how long he’s lived his life to stay off camera when he doesn’t want it. 

“So, Phil,” Tanger says loudly, and Sid and Geno both jerk, but turn towards the others. Tanger’s giving them a pointed look that Sid can’t quite interpret, but this is Phil’s time, so Sid throws himself into saying goodbye. 

///

_“It’s a big change, of course. Reality TV is a very different experience than scripted.” Sid looks into the camera, a bland smile on his face. “But it’s a good experience. Being back on camera is nice.” The producer says something, then, “Both kinds of TV are good, I think. Different sorts of pressure. But I learned how to react to having cameras in my face, and that’s helpful. If I can help the other guys with that, then I’m glad.” Another pause, then. “They’re all great, of course. I’ve been friends with Tanger and Flower for years, and Hags and Geno fit right in.” A laugh. “If I say anyone’s my best friend, I’d get in trouble. We all bring different things to the table… I couldn’t do any of their jobs. I don’t have any aesthetic taste, according to Flower. And…what Geno does–I don’t know how he does it. Everyone trusts him. Everyone loves him. He makes everyone better, makes them open up.” Another pause. “Even me? Hah. Yeah. I guess. Even me.”_

///

After so long, Sid barely notices the cameras on him. Or maybe he just assumes they’re always there. There’s not much of a difference, really. 

But there aren’t any here, in the loft. They’ll be here soon, so they can watch Phil get ready for his party, but right now it’s just them in the loft–just the five of them. 

Sid mixes the mangos in the bowl, his hands steady. It’s something to do with his hands. 

“Oh, you making salsa!” Geno asks, coming over to peak into the bowl. “My favorite,” Geno grins at Sid and the salsa, and Sid’s not sure which one he means. 

“I know.” Sid stirs again. He’s still looking at the bowl. He’s been thinking about this for the week since he saw Phil. Even when he tried not to. “G, do you really use me as an illustration for your motivational talks?” 

“Yes,” Geno answers immediately. 

Sid adds in some cilantro. “Really? Me?” 

“Of course you.” Sid doesn’t need to look at Geno to know he’s giving Sid his most condescending look. “I’m suppose to make people get better, yes? I don’t know anyone who works at being better more than you. Even when you best, always trying to be better.” 

Sid can’t help looking up at that. Geno’s watching him, and he’s a little flushed but he’s not looking away from Sid, and if Sid’s learned how to hide everything he feels from the cameras, Geno never has–it’s all there in his face, as he looks at Sid. Has he always looked at Sid like that? like he really does think Sid is the best? 

“All of us have had to do that,” Sid says, trying to keep his voice even. “We’ve all gone through shit to get here.” Geno not least of all–Geno maybe most of all. Sid’s life has been pretty charmed, all things being even. He works hard, yes, but he hasn’t had the barriers some of the others had. 

“Yes, but. You best, Sid.” Geno says it like a fact. “Always.” He’s still looking at Sid, fond and challenging and sure. 

Sid looks away to taste the salsa. It’s pretty good, but it’s not perfect yet. He can’t look at Geno looking at him like that. Do the cameras see that? 

And like his thought summoned them, suddenly the cameras are there, pouring in to set up. It always takes less time in the loft than anywhere else, because most of it’s set up already, but suddenly there’s less space in the loft. 

“Oh, you made salsa, excellent!” Hags wanders in, towards the kitchen. “Do we have those plantain chips you made before?” 

“Let me get them out of the oven,” Sid tells him, and bends down to do that. When he straightens, again, pulling the pan out, Tanger and Flower are there too, gathered around the island like a flock of baby birds waiting for Sid to feed them. Sid chuckles, and scrapes the chips into a bowl. 

“Here you go, vultures,” he says, and pushes both bowls across the island. 

“You wouldn’t know what to do without us,” Flower says, then swears when Tanger beats him to the first handful of chips. 

Sid looks at them, all of them gathered in his kitchen. At Geno, who’s still watching him even as he stuffs his face with salsa. He can feel the cameras on him, but he’s had them on him since they were a child. If he waits for them to leave, he’ll never change. 

“No,” he agrees, meeting Geno’s gaze. Geno’s eyes go wide, and then he starts to smile, wide and brilliant. “I wouldn’t.” 

///

_“I talk about Sid a lot? Yes, is because Sid best.” Geno shrugs. “Is all there is to it. I watch him, when we kids, and then now. He always try to improve. People usually stop, get easy. Get lazy. Not Sid. Is good for people to see.” A pause. “How I feel about the guys? They my best friends…what you mean, even Sid? Of course Sid best friend. Like I said. Sid best.” A smile, smaller than before, internal. “Of course I love him.” His head tilts to the side, surprised the question needs to be asked. “Of course.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Want to talk about it? Comment or come chat on [ tumblr!](http://fanforthefics.tumblr.com/)


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